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Freya
Posted: 29 Aug 2005 05:30 AM |
Freya kneels down in the snow. She's in Icy Vale, staring across Spirit Lake. She takes out a small wooden figurine out of her pack, ever so delicately, and bends her head to touch it.
"Great Grandfather Freyr, please hear my call. I wish only to honor your memory as a fallen hero of these lands. Please, give me a sign! What shall I do? Grant me the strength, ancestor, to do what I must to bring glory to our name. I will become great, and it is for you."
Freya kisses the figurine, and places it back in her pack. She stands and brushes the snow off her legs. It is early evening, but she does not feel the cold. This is where she grew up, and it has been many months since her last visit.
Her parents house is vacant. An old carpenters bench rots outside, a few broken axes litter the doorstep. She soon discovers that her parents can no longer afford to live there, and they had to take up lodging at the Mayor's boarding house. When Freya shows up to visit, she is given a bill. Her parents owe three months rent. Father complains of slow business for medium quality woodcrafted goods, and Mother complains that Father drinks too much. Freya pays the bill and leaves her parents, still arguing amongst themselves.
The air is cold. It sends a shiver down Freya's spine - but it is pleasant, a chilly reminder of childhood days. Most children of the Vale must work to help parents make ends meet, and fritter away the idle hours with horseplay and gossip; Freya spent any free time she had improving her mind and her body, reading every book she could get her hands on and running laps around the Lake. She chopped wood for Father and helped carry in the crop during Harvest. She had friends, yes, and she has always been attractive - but these things didn't seem to matter to her as much as improving herself.
On her 17th birthday, she gathered all her worldly possessions. She sold most of her things. Father had wanted to pass down the family business, woodcrafting - but Freya wasn't interested. To be fair, there wasn't much of a business to hand down - Father's life was woodcrafting, it was all he talked about, but he never sought to become a Master at his craft. He was content to make what he made - goods that could be had elsewhere, and perhaps of better quality. She didn't want to end up like them.
Her parents didn't want her to leave and follow the life that Freyr did - but she can still recall his power and his presence from when she was very young. Freyr's dying words to her were simple - "My Spirit will live on after I pass from this world. Honor me, Freya, and I will guide you." A heroic life ended in the shadows of the Vale, forgotten to history now - but his Spirit lives on, watching over her, helping her, as a guide and mentor in life.
Freya ran all the way from Icy Vale to the Four Winds Inn. To this day, she has no recollection of the run - how she knew where to go, perhaps only Freyr knows. She collapsed, exhausted, at the doorstep of the Inn. The Innkeeper helped her inside, and seeing the resolve in her eyes as she told him her tale, he offered her a job. It wasn't glamorous, cleaning out the washroom and hauling ale kegs, but it paid enough to buy her a set of armor and a shield after several months.
Freya set off, with her ancestor's Spirit on her shoulder, ready to make a name for herself. |
Fury Hokkunen, Elven Rogue
Freya, Human Fighter |
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Re: Freya
Posted: 01 Sep 2005 08:46 PM |
((A very nice introduction for your character, good job
*thumbs up*
-V )) |
I'm The Cult of Personality. |
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